


in his ineffable way

by Yellow



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, spoilers for forest party finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-15 00:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11219298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow/pseuds/Yellow
Summary: “It is very nice here,” Lem tells Hadrian one day, looking out over the town. “But we can't stay, can we?”





	in his ineffable way

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in an hour while screaming

The first week they are there, Samothes throws a feast, true to his word. Lem is delighted to meet someone who saw Marielda and is unconcerned enough with divinity that he and Samothes carry on like old friends. Adaire is suspicious, but then, when is she not. She takes to the good food if not the god Himself. Hadrian catches Hella throwing him uncertain glances many times, but she says nothing. Adelaide follows her closely, and Hadrian cannot tell how Hella feels about her. Truth be told, it is hard to tear his eyes from Samothes, even for his dearest friend.

Samothes is warm. The other Samothes- he was hot like a newly forged blade, beautiful and alluring and dangerous. This Samothes-this Samothes is who Hadrian always imagined, growing up listening to the priests. This Samothes is who Hadrian can imagine loving his husband, loving his son, loving the people of Marielda in his ineffable way.

Samothes turns from Lem in a break in the conversation to smile at Hadrian, as if he can hear Hadrian's thoughts. Hadrian blushes and gives a small smile back. He has not felt so warm, so loved, so safe, in years. Before all of this started. Possibly ever, he realizes.

 

After the public feast Samothes invites them to relax with his in a room deeper into the castle. Adaire and Adelaide excuse themselves, looking uncomfortable; Hella follows one or both, Hadrian cannot be sure. And then he and Lem are in a room with Samothes, drinking a heavy, warm cider that goes to Hadrian's head. There are apple trees here, orchards dotting the fields outside the city.

Samothes indulges them in pleasant talk and then turns more somber.

“I do not mean to ruin this pleasant evening,” he says. “But I must ask. What of Samot?”

Silence falls in the room. Lem begins to fidget.

“I know some things about the world outside. Maelgywn,” Samothes says, almost a sigh. “Samol is worse by the day. But the sword has not been near Samot since...”

“I saw him,” Lem says, quietly. Hadrian's eyes widen.

“When?” Hadrian demands.

“I put on-I put on the mask,” Lem says, putting his face in his hands. Samothes listens intently.

“He's planning. He's stressed and exhausted,” Lem says. “But he's still planning.”

Samothes sits back and smiles fondly, an edge of strain to it so slight Hadrian would not have noticed it had he not been watching him so closely. He breathes out, slow.

“That sounds like him,” he says. “I take it the stars were part of this plan?”

“That's what we think,” Lem says, and starts into the Archivists's plans. Samothes leans forward.

Hadrian sits quietly and watches him.

When Lem is finished, he leans back again. He is quiet a moment.

“It really has been quite a long time.” He looks up from his hands, rolls his neck and smiles. “I think it is time for me to excuse myself for the evening. Please, make yourselves at home.”

 

Hadrian begins to think.

 

It's not that night, or the night after, but a week passes and Hadrian begins to remember his wife, waiting for him in Velas. His son, left in Arrell's hands. His worries slowly surface through the pleasant glaze of contentment, and he begins to notice Adaire's discomfort, Adelaide's rage, Hella's worry. Even Lem seems to wake up.

“It is very nice here,” he tells Hadrian one day, looking out over the town. He has a warm loaf of bread in his hands. “It's just as good as Emmanuel's.” He laughs, a little wistful. “But we can't stay, can we?”

 

Hadrian finds Samothes on a balcony, watching the sun set. The air is warm and birds sing down below.

Samothes must hear him walking up.

“My son. Hadrian,” he says. Hadrian kneels, and Samothes laughs and beckons him to stand. And then they stand there, leaning on the balcony and watching his greatest work in the sky slowly paint the city gold.

“I think it's time for us to go,” Hadrian says, finally.

Samothes nods, slowly.

“And what is your intention?”

“I think we need to find Samot,” Hadrian says.

“I see.”

“I know how you feel about the Heat and the Dark, but. I can't just sit here and live happily while my wife is working her hardest in Velas, while my son-”

Samothes is looking at him, eyes crinkled at the edges.

“You sound just like him.”

Hadrian laughs, once. “I think we're all going,” he says softly.

Samothes nods. “I believe you may be able to leave.” He looks back to the setting sun. “I must stay here. I doubt the sword will let me go.”

Hadrian swallows down his protests. His heart aches. He's come so far, for what, two weeks with his god? He would stay here forever if he could. His stomach curdles at the thought of leaving Samothes behind.

“What is it, Hadrian?” he asks.

Hadrian closes his eyes.

“I want so badly to be selfish and stay.”

There is a warm hand on his shoulder. Hadrian looks up.

Samothes looks at him, and it makes him remember the way the sun used to warm his face, walking the streets of Velas at dawn.

“You don't have to leave,” he says, and Hadrian breathes deep.

“I know,” he says.

“I fear my domain lies mostly within this sword,” Samothes says. “But know I am with you whether you feel the light of the sun or not. You carry it.” He touches Hadrian's chest.

Hadrian's eyes sting. His chest is tight where Samothes touched it.

“So you approve?” Hadrian asks. “Even though-” he starts, and trails off.

“I do not agree with Samot, even still,” he says. “But it's been many years. I do not wish to die without having seen him one last time.” He throws Hadrian a long, melancholy look. “I do not wish you to feel the way I have sometimes felt, knowing he needs me and being unable to help.”

Hadrian closes his eyes and thinks of Rosanna and Benjamin. “Thank you,” he manages.

“There are few I would trust with this,” Samothes says. “Go find Samot. Tell him I have sent you.”

Hadrian swallows, thinking of the fur cloak. Samothes' face lights with amusement.

“Do you fear his claim on you?”

“After being here, with you,” Hadrian says, “I could never serve another.”

Samothes laughs, full throated and wild. His grin is bright and blinding, but never mocking. He looks at Hadrian with such love.

“Do not forget, Hadrian, that I am a deeply jealous god. I do not let my most faithful go without a fight, even to him.”

The fire in his eyes cools into a gentler thing, and Hadrian is overcome. He drops to his knees.

Samothes puts a hand on Hadrian's head, threads his fingers through the tight curls.

“I will miss you, my son. But you will do just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on twitter @erintherockerin!!!


End file.
